


Godless

by LoweFantasy



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Dark Fantasy, F/M, Fallen Angels, Fanfiction, Gods, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Original Character, Post-Canon, Romance, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoweFantasy/pseuds/LoweFantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The spell over Hanna's memory and body disguising her as human are broken when she imprints on Link. Dismayed at her failure to hide her child, her mother throws her out, and Hanna finds herself as an unwanted creation of gods who were defeated by the goddesses. She is the last of her kind, hunted, and mated to a man she doesn't know, but she will find her happiness at any cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Star

            I met the man who broke my mother's most carefully weaved spell outside a circus tent. Inside a huge cage had been set up, shadowed by the striped walls of the tent, and framed by wooden depictions of smiling moons and suns.

            Initially, we went because the guy who ran the place was brother to my one friend, Chenise, and crush to my other friend, Donna. I didn't blame Donna, really. The guy had a very nice face, a white, toothy smile, and tend to wore outfits that showed off his perfect abs. He intimidated me though. Most cute guys did. Especially the ones who knew they were cute, as Chenise's brother did. Just because I was intimidated didn't mean I was shy, by all means. I joked and laughed with the rest while Donna blushed and tried her best at flirting, which Chenise's brother accepted eagerly, though sincerely I didn't know.

            He asked us to wait outside and draw in customers, but what we really ended up doing was crowding to the side of the door to tease Donna about Chenise's brother.

            “Why do you always call him 'Chenise's brother?' His name is Purlo.”

           “Because I keep forgetting.” I said, shrugging as though to say, 'don't blame me,' though I really had no excuse.

            And the look on Donna's lightly freckled face told me she knew it. “I don't believe you.”

            “I don't believe you either.” said Chenise. “I mean, did you get a look at those abs?”

            I made a face at her. “Eww, he's your brother!”

            “Doesn't mean I can't see.” she said. “I mean, what a face.”

            “And have you seen him when he's in the cage? Oh wow.”

            “Yeah, he's pretty great.” I did my best to sound sincere, though in all reality, I'd rather be somewhere else, like back home, doing chores and hanging up laundry near the courtyard where the musicians practiced. Oh yeah.

            Then I saw him. He was dressed in green with a funny, long green hat. The most beautiful sword was sheathed over his shoulder, or at least, the purple hilt was, as I couldn't see the rest. I thought him short for a guy, though he could be a little taller than me, and he had a nice face.

            Though it had been the look on his face that had distracted me. It looked strained, and something wild burned in his eye, like a beast.

            But, for some reason, I wasn't scared. Instead, I felt worried. What had happened to him to give him such a ferocious look.

            “Hey! You in the green!”

            He paused instantly, as though he was frequently called out like that. It only took him a second to find me through the crowd. I waved at him, gesturing him over. He hesitated, then made his way over to me.

            Chenise and Donna had noticed by now.

            “Hanna, what are you doing?”

            I didn't answer, because I really didn't have one. But then they spotted the guy.

            “Oh my...” whispered Chenise.

            He kept his distance, though stood close enough to have a relatively normal conversation.

            “Yeah?” he said.

            “You should try out this game my friend's brother's set up,” I pointed to the tent. “You look like you've been under a lot of stress lately, and some fun will help clear your mind. It shouldn't take too much time, and it's only ten rupees.”

            He blinked those wolf-like eyes and glanced at my friends, who had slid in behind me, as though afraid. He sighed.

            “Sorry, I...”

            Then he paused, as though listening to something. I thought I saw his shadow flicker out of the corner of my eye, but when I looked it was just an ordinary shadow.

            He rolled his eyes, to what, I didn't know. “Sure. Why not. It's just inside this tent, right?”

            I nodded and he stepped past us and into the darkness of the tent.

            Chenise and Donna squealed.

            “Those eyes!”

            “Those arms!”

            “His physic must be so perfect under all those clothes!”

            “Goodness, Hanna, you know how to spot them!”

            I shoved Chenise aside playfully, “We're suppose to be out here getting customers, or have you forgotten?”

            She wrinkled her nose at me. “I have been attracting customers. Just standing here and being my beautiful self is enough.” She flicked her short hair that she had dyed green in an act of rebellion. I told her it made it look like she was growing grass on her head and she didn't talk to me for a week.

            “And I'm just here to help out the wonderful Purlo,” said Donna, putting her chin in the air. It made the tall bob of red hair on her head bounce.

            So, we weren't doing anything useful...

            I sighed and rubbed my hand down my eyebrows. “In that case, I'm going home. I got cleaning to do.”

            “Aw, you're no fun!” whined Chenise.

            “Why do you always have to be all business and no cool,” said Donna.

            “It's called being an adult. We aren't twelve anymore.”

            “But we're not fifty either,” Chenise said with a frown. “And how do you expect to attract a husband huddle in the house or in that dark little corner of yours by the gates hanging clothes? Speaking of which, are you ever going to do anything with your hair?”

            “What's wrong with it?” I asked, putting a hand to it. It was thick, long, and so black it was almost blue.

            “All you did was tied it into some garish knot on the back of your head.” she said. “And black is such a boring color. Why don't you bleach it? Or dye it more blue?”

            Donna's eyes went big. “Ooo, yeah, more blue!”

            “Forget it, I'm going inside.”

            They 'awed' and cooed after me as though I had denied a bunch of ten-year-olds ice cream and followed after me. I didn't care if they did or not, but my mind had yet to leave the young man in green.

            Inside, Purlo was just opening the door on the cage for him. The grin on his face reminded me why I wasn't as crazy about him as Donna. He looked less than honest. One would even say greedy.

            And the look also made my stomach drop. I had just lured that poor boy in here. Purlo would probably eat him alive for all he was worth. Ugh, how could I be so stupid!

            Purlo closed the door, lifted his watch high in the air, and yelled out start.

            And from there I watched as the handsome young man pulled out strange claw-and-chain contraptions on his hands and started zooming around the cage.

            Our jaws dropped collectively.

            The little plastic, floating lights Purlo had obtained while traveling around with the circus were all at his feet, five whole seconds before the ending time.

            For the first time, I started screaming and cheering with my friends like a lunatic. I didn't even know why. All I felt was relief. I hadn't scammed him, never mind the fact it was Purlo doing the scam in the first place.

            The boy glanced over at us and blushed. It hit me then that he wasn't just handsome—but the pinkening to his cheeks and long ears told me that, unlike Purlo, he had somehow hadn't let it go to his head.

            Purlo, who hadn't expected anyone to win, ended up giving the boy an old quiver he had in the back from a co-worker of his. The boy took it though, taking the time to discard his own quiver, which was half the size of Purlo's old one, and started slipping in arrows.

            Chenise started hissing his name like a snake. Purlo looked over, confused, and looking more than a little annoyed.

            “His name,” she hissed. “Ask him his name.”

            Purlo looked to the ceiling, but managed to push one of his toothy grins onto his face. “What's your name, new star!”

            “Link.” said the boy quietly. “And, uh, thanks for the game.”

            “Come back again and I'll have a new game specifically designed just for you.” Then, in an undertone that wasn't entirely as quiet as it should be, for even I heard it. “Let's see you conquer that one, heh heh.”

            Yeah. The 'heh heh's really did it for him. You know how to pick'em, Donna.

            My stomach clenched as I watch him heft on his new quiver and turn to leave. While Donna and Chenise finished swooning, I caught up to him outside. After the dark tent, the sun blinded me and I almost ran into him head first.

            “Link?”

            He paused and met my eye. The image of a wolf crossed my mind—a huge wolf. Gray and silver, muzzle to the sky, and Link's same blue eyes closing in a silent howl.

            But then there was just Link, the young man, with a sunkissed complexion and golden hair framing his face. He cocked his head to the side.

            “You okay?”

            I frowned. “Why wouldn't I be?”

            “You look a little dazed there for a minute.”

            I felt my neck heat up. “Oh, no, it's nothing. Sometimes I just see things when I look at people. I saw you as a wolf there for a minute, how crazy is that?”

            His eyes widened a bit, but he chuckled, sort of tersely. “Yeah. Pretty crazy.”

            Aw great. What he was really saying was he thought I was pretty crazy. Way to go freaking out a cute guy, I really needed to keep my mouth shut.

            Best to get what I needed done.

            “I just wanted to apologize,” I said, folding my hands before me. “I saw Purlo in there and I don't think he's being completely honest, I'm sorry. I mean, he seemed to do the cage game fine, I never stopped to think...”

            Link smiled softly. “It's okay. I sorta cheated too.”

            “No you didn't! There was nothing in the rules against...against...?”

            “Clawshots.”

            “Yeah! Nothing against clawshots! And Purlo needed some humbling anyways, if you asked me. Don't tell Chenise though, she's the one with the green hair.”

            “Green hair?” He then looked up and a funny look came on his face. “Why'd she dye her hair green?”

            “Because she wanted to become a tree.”

            “Hanna!”

            I flinched and Link looked like he wanted to laugh, but didn't know if it was polite too. I turned around slowly to meet my angry friend. Donna was still in the tent, probably 'comforting' Purlo.

            “What? I was just kidding.”

            “Why can't you just be supportive like...like...a good friend!”

            “Well, Chenise, you did dye your hair green. I thought a good friend would be honest with you.”

            Her eyes teared up. Instantly I crumbled.

            “Aw, Chenise...”

            “I'll just be on my way.” said Link.

            Chenise's tears vanished and she went into full-blown fangirl moment. “Oh my gosh, it's him! I can't believe I didn't see you!”

            She squealed loudly, clutching her hands to her chin and pressing her knees together.

            “You were so great in there! I've never seen anyone so cool in my life! Please say you'll go on a date with me, please!”

            “Uh--”

            “I'll even pay! There's this great restaurant in the square that serves the most delicious cake ever! Unless you're not a sweets person, than that's really fine, there's these sandwiches with mutton and--”

            “No.” he said solidly, though he grew flustered when the green-haired girl froze. “I mean, thank you, a lot, but I need to be on my way. I got some really important things to do.”

            I thought I heard a snicker somewhere and once more saw a flicker out of the corner of my eye. I looked down to his shadow again, but once more saw nothing out of the ordinary.

            She wilted. “Well, maybe when you're not busy?”

            “I don't know when I'll be in town next.”

            “Then where do you live, I'll--”

            “Chenise.” I said. “You're being a stalker.”

            Her face flushed. Another reason why green hair was a horrible choice. Red and green, yeah.

            “Bye.” he said, sounding more than a little awkward.

            The last I saw of him was his shield and green hat vanishing around the corner. Chenise had more than enough angry words for me after that, after which she begged me for comfort, but all I remember was thinking I saw a dark, shadow like imp come up from under his feet and lean in to speak into his ear. I shook it off, wondering if I was starting to go crazy. I had always ignored the images I got when I met people. It wasn't normal. I learned that when not too long ago my mother had given me that look she often gave when I started talking about father. The scary one. The one that was usually followed by breaking pots.

            But I couldn't get the wolf-boy off my mind. There was something about him. He had done something in that cage worth far more than a quiver, and I wanted to know why he had so much suppressed fury in his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanna discovers that her life is a lie, and that she has memories concealed by her mother's magic. But meeting her soul mate and imprinting on him has unraveled the spell, and thus she is no longer concealed from the goddesses, who will then seek her life.

            I dreamed of him. One would think that sounds romantic, but they were strange dreams. At first they were him as a wolf, running across Hyrule field, teeth bared, eyes burning with that same intensity. I saw the weird little imp on his back, but this time it had flaming orange hair, a strange stone mask, and an oddly shaped, black and blue-white body. I woke up the next morning wondering what kind of strange crush I had gotten.

            The next night he wasn't a wolf, just a man, but in a strange place made of black, block like buildings, a strange amber sky full of shadowy clouds, and a land that seemed to be shedding black scales that fell up and up into that same sky. He had his sword in hand, and the blade was just as beautiful as the hilt, aglow like the sun and shedding light in great arcs above his adversaries, which were gruesome, horrible black creatures.

            I woke up the next day wondering how a crush could give you nightmares.

            But each night was a new dream, some long, filled with harrowing battles of black beasts and his shining sword, always with the imp within his shadow (perhaps that had been why I hadn't seen her?). And some were short, just brief glimpses of him sitting against a wall, or even outside of the shadowy realm with his head bowed before a campfire, shoulders slumped.

            My daytime life started making less and less sense to me. Why were these girls my best friends, anyways? Why hadn't I stopped Purlo by now from scamming people? Where had my father gone, and why was my mother and I all alone? How were we keeping this house, and why hadn't I ever wondered what mom did for a living? What did I do for a living? Had I always been cleaning this little one room house? Always cooking these meals? Did I really like cheese?

            Mother noticed me drawing in before my friends did. Though I didn't know where my friends had gone. I hadn't seen them for days...hadn't I?

            “Hanna?”

            I understood her entire question in the way she spoke my name.

            “I've just been having some...nightmares.” I said.

            She crouched down in front of me, letting the scorpion tail of her long black braid touch the floor. She didn't move, waiting, her beautiful, pale hands between her knees.

            I sighed. “They're always of this boy I met a few weeks ago. In them he turns into a wolf and fights monsters. He's on some quest—some quest to save us all. But,” I hesitated. “Mom, I didn't realize we needed saving, or anything like that. Sure the royal family's been holed up in the castle, sure there's something strange going on, but--”

            In a flash a memory I didn't know I had came to mind. A memory of another nightmare, filled with shadowy beasts and surreal amber skies.

            I had unconsciously hugged my knees in tightly and scooted up closer against the wall. The fire besides me crackled. But still, my mother waited, expression patient. I looked around at my home again, which, after weeks of nightmares, now looked so strange. My legs started to tremble and I clutched them together to try and keep them still, but then my hands just started shaking.

            “Mother, what happened to us?” Hot tears slid down my cheeks. “What's happening to me?”

            Her white hands came out, shushing me, smoothing my hair and telling me that she loved me, no matter what. I wept in painful confusion.

            “Hanna,” she said. “Hanna.”

            The sound of my name calmed me down. That's right. I was Hanna. I was Hanna still.

            And then I fell asleep to the crackling of the fire, wrapped up in the quilt from my mother's bed.

            As I did every time I slept, whether it was a night or in the day, I dreamed of Link. This time he was inside the castle, a place I'd never been into, and I could feel his awe as my own at the immensity of it. Who had built the ceiling so high? How had they built it? What was all this space even for?

            And then came the gut clenching horror as I watched him walled in with orange, transparent barriers and forced to do battle with waves upon waves of monsters. They were horrible things, with overlarge jaws filled with teeth, dripping with spit, and swinging to the steps of their unruly gait. They hacked at him, sawed at him, and though his swordsmanship made them look like children they outnumbered him fifteen to one, making it inevitable that their blades should steal a taste at least once.

            The imp urged him on, floating after him, whispering to him of the princess, calling out the name 'Zelda.'

            More beasts. More swords. More dark stains against his green.

            And then he reached the top of the castle—up and up into the throne room, where a hulking man with hair the color of flames waited. He had a strong jaw, and his frightening, dark eyes seemed to see the spectral me watching from the sides.

            “He will die,” he said to me— _to me_ —totally ignoring Link and the imp before him. “They both shall die.”

            I awoke with a start and a wail. Mother came stumbling from her bed, calling my name.

            “He's going to kill him! He's going to kill him!”

            “Kill who? Hanna, calm down.”

            “We have to do something! Mother, the top of the castle, we have to do something! Isn't there anyone?”

            She frowned. “Hanna, it was just a dream.”

            And as I looked into her face, framed by raven hair, so like my own, something snapped inside me.

            For the first time, I saw her. The strange perspicacity that had showed to me a wolf when I looked at Link and so many other things whenever I looked at anyone else showed me a wondrous being, with wings out her shoulders, spread wide to the sky, black feathers reaching up and up like fingers. Her eyes had gone blue and wide, and I could see an endless expanse in them.

            And we hadn't always lived here.

            Pain tore threw me, and somehow I knew it had to do with Link.

            “Mother!” I cried.

            She jumped to the kitchen, breaking a bowl in her fervor. I was shaking harder now, and something hot was bubbling in me. It hurt, it hurt so bad, I thought blood would come out of my mouth at any moment.

            Mother dropped down in front of me.

            “Drink this.”

            “He's going to kill him!”

            “Drink this and then we'll go help him. Just drink this.”

            I didn't know what she tipped into my mouth. But it was bitter and sweet at the same time and numbed my throat on the way down. My tongue tingled. Almost instantly my vision blurred.

            “Mother,” But my voice was growing faint. “Mommy.”

            “It's okay, I'll look after him, but you must stay here.”

            “But you told me...so it's not a...”

            I slipped back into unconsciousness. The sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears was the last thing I heard.

            The next morning I somehow found myself out of the house, with my hair brushed back into a ponytail, and my two friends before me as though I had never been missing.

            “Did you hear? Did you hear? The castle's was overthrown last night.”

            “Yeah! But then some guy came in—just one guy—and everything was all right! The soldiers are back in and everything!”

            “Though some of them were killed by some weird monsters, but no one knows where they came from. It's like it all was just some bad dream.”

            The words 'bad dream' rankled something inside of me, but I just smiled. I felt like I was in a daze. What just happened? Shouldn't I be somewhere right now? Didn't someone need me?

            “Do you really believe them? Do you really think that one guy could have done all that?”

            “I couldn't even believe we didn't notice it. We were all sound asleep!”

            “I did hear a boom sometime this morning, though.”

            “Oh my gosh, from where?”

            “The castle of course!”

            Purlo stepped out of the tent then, fingers on his chin in a dashing pose, earning a squirm and squeal from both Donna and Chenise. Behind us the townspeople went about their usual bustle, except I could hear the swapping of the same story Donna and Chenise shared and nervous glances towards the castle.

            “Now now, ladies, you should be attracting guests, not swapping rumors.”

            “But it's true! I heard it from a soldier by the gate!”

            “Whether it is or so, time is money.” he rubbed his chin again, looking towards the castle. “I wonder when that fellow will come back, though, whatever his name. I have a challenge waiting just for him and I want to see his face when he fails.”

            Something tickled in my memory. Who was he talking about? No one had ever beaten the cage---

            And then it returned to me. Link, the dreams, mother--

            What the hell was I doing here? What had happened? How could I be out in front of the tent, just like that day, without nothing changing? And why hadn't Donna and Chenise said anything about me being sick for the past few days? Didn't they care? We had been friends since...since...

            I couldn't remember.

            That was enough to send me in a mad dash towards the castle. They called out for me, but I barely heard them.

            What was going on?

            Guards stopped me at spear point at the gates.

            “No one can enter without permission,” he said.

            “If you have an emergency--”

            I latched onto the handle of his spear, making the soldier jump.

            “The guy—the guy who went into the castle--”

            “You mean that swordsman?”

            My heart jumped. “Yes! Him! Did you see him come back out?”

            The guard frowned and exchanged a glance with his comrade.

            “No. No, I can't say I did,” he said, his calm rubbing me wrong in so many ways. “Why? Did you know him?”

            But I was already pushing past him, falling into a dead sprint through the walk way and to the closed doors up ahead.

            “Halt! Miss!”

            And just as I was wondering if I would be able to open the massive double doors blocking the way to the castle, one opened and my mother stepped out, dark, beautiful, and with her sharp eyes cutting off my intentions.

            I stumbled to a stop.

            “He is alright,” she said, though she had that scary look again. The one she always wore when I talked about father. “You should be with your friends.”

            “They aren't my friends.”

            “What are you talking about? You're with them all the time.”

            I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. My life had flipped upside down so quickly I couldn't even tell which way was up anymore.

            I could hear the clank of the soldiers' armor as they caught up to me.

            “Mother,” I said, unable to control the tremor in my voice. “Mother, what's going on? We haven't always lived here, I know that, but I can't remember why, and it's like everything around me—Donna, Chenise, our house—like it's all some big lie. And, inside me, there's something...”

            She waited, but I couldn't find a word to explain it.

            The two guards surrounded us as best as two guards could. They ushered us down the walkway together, chastising us for lacking permission, asking questions I didn't hear.

            I tried looking back, to find some sort of clue to what was going on. All I could remember, though, was that all this started the day I had met him. The day I had looked into his eyes and seen the wolf there.

            “What does Link have to do with this?” I asked.

            We had reached the fountain at the town's center. The guards had peeled off at the gate and people bustled about us, all noise, all movement, and somewhere behind me I could hear the musician singing at the top of his lungs as the lyre tried to keep up with him.

            My mother's face, though, was aghast. She looked as though she were about to cry, and another memory tickled at the back of my mind. One where my mother screamed at an empty, blue sky while tears ran down her face.

            She put a hand to my cheek. I could look into her eyes without looking up, I realized. When had my mother gotten so short?

            “Oh, Hanna,” she said. “This isn't right. I thought we could start over, become something else, I thought I could give you a better life, but I guess there's just no denying our blood.” She shook her head and dropped her hand. “Let's go back home. We can't do this here.”

            By the time we got home, my back had started to ache and I felt feverish. I almost walked into a wall, which got my mother's attention, and she sat me down on my bed.

            “You're going to feel a little sick as your body changes back, but the spell isn't going to break all at once,” she said. “It's a blood spell, a deep one, one that changed you down to your core. But from here on out it's going to disintegrate and your true form is going to come through, and you will be as good as dead.”

            I felt like I should understand what she was saying, but the memories were still blurry, and the pain in my back, and now in my head, weren't helping. “Why?”

            “Because our gods have long been conquered by the goddesses of this land, and our kind have been abandoned for thousands of years.” Tears leaked down my mother's face. “We are the last, Hanna. The very last. And the moment your traits come through, this world will turn against you and hunt you down.” She closed her eyes and turned away from me.

            “I don't understand.” I said. “What did we do?”

            “We were not meant to survive the battle of the gods. As creations of the gods who were enemy to the goddesses, we are considered to be pests, even enemies as well.” There came a clack of pots against pans as she tried to busy herself. “That is why, after your father died, I gave up all of my power and my freedom to lock away those traits and help us to live as Hylians for the rest of our days.” She turned around, her eyes bright, but dry. “You will remember everything in time, the spell is weakening.” Mother's hands were shaking, and I could see her knees had begun to tremble. She collapsed. “Not that it matters. Not that anything matters at all.”

            Despite the pain and confusion I was in, I got off the bed and ran to her side. In the end, even if I was some freak from hell, my mother would always be the same. Though her words sounded farfetched, I knew they were true. I could sense the start of the black in my memory, where my days as the human Hanna started and whatever I had been before ended.

            “Mother, it will be okay,”

            “No.” she said softly. “No, this is the end.”

            The finality to her voice made me shudder. She was canceling out. I couldn't hear anything of her heart anymore. It frightened me more than the nightmares ever had.

            “Mother?”

            “This is the end,” she said again. “Now, the only choice left to you is how you want to meet it. You have your options, now that you've imprinted on a human.”

            “Imprinted?”

            “The old one's would say it's the gods' way of leading you to your soul mate,” she snorted. “But we have no gods. Your body's just desperately mated itself to someone, shame it's a thing that can't give you the same back. He'll love someone else, your body will know, and you will die.”

            I blanched. “Mother, where is this all coming from? What am I?”

            But she went on as though she didn't hear me.

            “But ah yes, the options. You can either wait here to die when he finds a lover, or you can go after him and at least die knowing you tried, for you will die.”

            I pulled my hands away. “Mother, don't say things like that.”

            But something cracked and bubbled, and in that moment I realized it was her laughing, a broken, harsh cackle. “No, you will die. Once the spell is gone, the goddesses will find you and kill you, just like they did to the rest of us.”

            She flung back her black head, tears pouring down the sides of her face, a crazy, shaking grin bouncing across her cheeks. “I should have known there was no escaping a god.”

            I backed off, cold as ice. Mother kept laughing, eyes wide to the ceiling, loose hair from her braid sticking to the tear tracks on her neck.

            “Mother, please, stop talking like that.”

            “Just go off and die,” she said, “my little love, my little moon, I don't want you to suffer when you die. I don't want it to hurt.”

            “Please, we can redo the spell, I still haven't remembered anything, and I hardly know Link--”

            “Stop talking. The power of an imprint was enough to break a spell never meant to be broken, that should tell you enough.” She dropped her head, like a puppet's, and gave me that unstable, bouncing grin. “You will die. That human will fall in love and you will die, even if you never see him again. What a creative end to our species.”

            I found my back pressed against the cool stucco of the wall, staring as my mother's head lolled about, cackling, crying, and I tried to resist the urge to throw up. I was sweating, beads of it, all down my sides and legs. It just wouldn't click that watching a guy fly around in stupid Chenise's stupid brother's circus tent had started all this.

            When my mother finally staggered to her feet, evening had fallen and neither of us had eaten all day. I couldn't trace back the time that had passed between us, and my body ached worse than ever. She stumbled to her bed and pulled out a bag from underneath.

            “Here,” she rasped, throwing it to me. “Go get yourself a horse before everyone closes up.”

            I pulled out a big, heavy, dark brown cloak, some boots, and a bag of money. I didn't have to ask why she was giving me these things.

            “What about you?”

            “The opportunities are vast,” she said. “The spell hasn't broken on me, so maybe I'll just live to an old age, poisoning creeks, slitting the throats virgins---this place is terribly peaceful, if you ask me.”

            I frowned. “You're not serious, are you?” Though why should I be surprised? The whole world as I knew it was going to pot.

            “Just go.” Mother snapped. “Go and die already. I can't look at your face any longer.”

            Something irreparable broke within me. “B-but, mother,” I choked on a breath. “ _Mommy_ \--”

            “I said go! Now! Run until you die! That's all I have left to give you.”

           


	3. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanna runs for her life from the first wave of monsters and remembers a hint of her father.

            The dappled gray stallion whinnied in protest beneath me. He was too old for this speed, and I knew it, but the night closing in on me came with the cry of monsters and all I could think about were my mother's words.

            _Run until you die._

            I couldn't feel. I couldn't look to closely within me, else I would be eaten alive by the dark hole in my chest.

            I hadn't been able to afford a saddle, so the cheap, too big freebie the pitying horse hand had given me chaffed against my legs and barely protected me from the bony back of the stallion, whose mane had tangled up in my fists for reigns.

            _The goddesses will find you and kill you._

            Thunder rumbled somewhere above me. Ahead of me spread a wide expanse of grass, speckled with tall, widespread trees and back dropped by black clouds. The moon had vanished, leaving the night almost unnaturally dark.

            Had Chenise or Donna ever really known me? Had my mother implanted memories into their heads? How long had I been pretending to be human?

            What was I? Mother hadn't really been in the state to be clear.

            _Just go off and die._

            A flash of lightening lit up the landscape. For the brief moment, I could see, and what I saw were a half a dozen pair of yellow eyes closing in, floppy mouths wide with teeth. I recognized the goblins from my dreams. Link had fought them easily, but he wasn't here now, and I hadn't the forethought to bring a weapon of any kind with me.

            My stallion snorted and pulled back, sensing the goblins closing in, but I dug my heels in deep and drove it off to the right. I could hear their grating, dog-like welps of delight. But they couldn't catch me. My horse was old, but he was still a horse.

            Thunder boomed ahead, several seconds behind the lightening. My stead whined in fright and bolted. If he had been running fast before, it was nothing compared to now. I held on for dear life.

            My back hurt. Everything felt unfocused, like a bad dream.

            _That human will fall in love and you will die, even if you never see him again._

I didn't even know him. I had just met Link once. I didn't love him or anything. Just because I dreamed about him every night, why did that mean death? Why did all this mean death?

            I couldn't even remember my father or what life was like before Castle Town. When had this all started? Why was this happening?

            A screech cut me off. Leathery wings came from the side, gleaming eyes alight, claws outstretched.

            Pain tore across my arm and shoulder. The stallion screamed and veered to the side. I had no idea where we were going now. It took all I had just to hold on.

            Why were all these monsters attacking me? The spell hadn't worn off yet, had it? They didn't recognize me for...whatever I am, did they?

            I hurt. I hurt.

            _This is the end._

            It started to rain. The droplets shot through my clothes like needles of ice. The heavy cloak fluttered behind me like a banner and useless to keep me from getting soaked within minutes.

            I should have told Donna how much of an ass Purlo was. I shouldn't have held back. I should have let her known before this. What if she ends up getting hurt because of him?

            And what had I been doing with my life? Sitting by the gates, watching people, didn't I have any hobbies? Didn't I have any dreams?

            The flying monster reached for me again with its claws. I felt it graze across my head, taking a few of my hairs with it. I buried my face in my horse's bony shoulders, wanting to pray to someone for help but not knowing how and already knowing there was no one there.

              _Because our gods have long been conquered by the goddesses of this land._

            A frightening thought broke through my feverish brain: what would be waiting for me after I died then? The Hylians taught that they would, according to their works, either be sent up to the goddesses for eternal rest, maybe even reincarnation, and the wicked would be banished far below in the darkness, to exist no more. Would I cease to exist then once I died?

            But what kind of existence had I had in the first place?

            I heard another crylike warble, the loud panting of a goblin, and then something hard smashed into my leg. I nearly fell off the wet side of my horse, blinded with pain.

           Up ahead I could see the looming forms of trees. Something warm, something unexpected, sparked in my chest, urging me on. Into the trees, it told me. Safety is ahead, safety.

            “Hyah!” I cried, urging one last burst of speed from my exhausted ride.

            Twigs whipped against my face and I ducked down once more, directing with my knees the best I could according to the strange instinct within my chest. Where had I learned to ride a horse like this? In Castle Town mother and I had had no need for a horse.

            A memory of open plains, speckled with sunlight and the shadows of clouds, came to my mind.

            I didn't know how long I rode, how far we ran. At some point the calls of monsters died, leaving only the sound of the rain on the canopy of leaves beneath the clip-clop of hooves. He slowed down, heaving and panting, head bobbing up and down beneath my own. I couldn't focus. I couldn't wait...

            I woke when I fell off my horse with a thud and a splash of mud. My stallion whinnied in surprise, but didn't move. I thought I could feel the earth turning beneath me and my body felt buzzed and heavy. So tired. The ground didn't feel that bad.

            A warm puff of air across my face startled me. The old gray horse leaned over, sniffing me, probably curious to see what had happened.

            “I never named you,” I found myself saying through the rain.

            It snorted. I fell back asleep.

            Suddenly, the strange warm instinct awoke in me and started tugging on my consciousness. It urged me on, just a little further. Though I didn't move it grew stronger, pushing, pulling, until I found myself wide awake in my shaking, feverish, bleeding body. I rolled onto my hands and knees and reached for my horse, but I couldn't see how I could ever find the strength to pull myself on. The pain in my back hadn't ceased to throb, and the shin the goblin had smashed brought stars and black blotches to my eyes.

            I felt the horse's nose on my neck. It puffed and grumbled.

            “I know, I know, you did most of the work.” I found his dark, shaggy mane and dug my hands into it. “You know I'm just going to die on you, right?”

            The horse snorted, as though disagreeing with me.

            “No, really,” I said. But the strange something that had woken in my chest was relentless, demanding I continue forward, even if I had to walk. I had to go on, why, I didn't know.

            “Kneel down for me?” I asked the horse weakly. “Please?” Wow, I had reached a new low, a new pathetic.

            It took me a full few minutes to realize the warm support under my chin had vanished and that the old, knobbly stallion had knelt onto the ground, saddle before me. It watched me with eyes the color of the storm clouds above us.

            Deciding I'd think on the extensiveness of my horse's training, and/or ability to understand people, I somehow managed to slid back onto his back and directed him according to the figurative compass burning in my chest.

            Once more I slipped into a painful, exhausted daze. His hooves clip-clopped across the bridge, and I almost looked over the edge to see just how deep the ravine was we were crossing.

            “You're such a nice horse,” I mumbled. “Does that mean not everything in this world is out to reject me?”

            The burning in my chest was growing stronger. I was getting closer to...whatever. Then what?

            I could taste the blood on my cheek. Had the flying monster done more to my head than I thought?

            The stallion stopped, right as the compass in my chest died, leaving me cold and more weak than ever.

            Goddesses, my head hurt.

            I strained to take in my surroundings. Through curtains of rain I made out a clearing closed in by short cliffs and tall, lush trees. I could make out a gate, and on my other side I could make out a ladder leading up to a door in a huge tree. I thought I could see a roof cut into it's branches.

            The stallion looked back at me with one, big dark eye. It was getting harder to make out his face. The night kept getting darker.

            “What should I name you?” I mumbled.

            He nickered and nuzzled my uninjured leg. I felt myself slipping a bit as he knelt down onto the ground, still swinging his head back and forth to nicker at me and snort, almost as though in concern.

            “You might be old, but you're awfully nice.” I nuzzled my face deeper into his wet mane. “Like a grandpa.”

            The last sensation I felt was of his wet, coarse horse hair running under my hand and the muddy ground reaching up to catch me.

           

(*&^%$#$%^&*()*&^%$#

 

            Mother had her head tipped back and screaming, a horrible, inhuman sound. Her once glistening, smooth as water hair had gone frizzy and stuck to the cloak of feathers down her back and splayed all over the ground. No, it wasn't a cloak. It was her wings, black as raven feathers and faceted with blues and greens like her black hair.

            The sky had been blue that day. Blue and uncaring. It should have been raining.

            _It's all my fault,_ I thought. _I shouldn't have been born. None of us should have been born._

Grass of the huge, open expanse dug into my knees like twigs. I had expected it to be soft, but why should I? This world hated me.

            I had my hands to my ears.

            “Mommy,” my voice sounded so small. “Mommy, please stop screaming. It hurts...”

            My face felt sticky with tears. My stomach hurt really bad.

            “Mommy...”

            Daddy had only been keeping us safe. He hadn't meant to leave. It wasn't like he was gone forever...was he? What happened after we died? Where was daddy?

            The grass was suppose to feel soft. I lifted up one knee to see the red imprints on my pale skin. Pebbles stuck in my hand. I could hear the wind, soft and mournful. It was a beautiful day. It shouldn't be.

            But what ever had Daddy done to deserve that? What had he done wrong?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got a mo, check out my first published novel, "Out of Duat" on Amazon! It's an ancient Egyptian romance complicated by time-travel and spiced up with necromancy. It's only $3 for the electronic copy, but there is also a hard copy available.


	4. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanna bleeds out wings and gets caught by the last person she wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas present from me to you! "Out of Duat" by T.S. Lowe is FREE on Amazon from Dec 16-20th! So, if you got a mo, drop by and pick up your free ebook. ^.^ Thanks for reading!

            I woke up to the pain. My back ached as though the bones had been crushed along with my leg and my head throbbed along with it. I groaned, wondering when I had ever gotten on a ship, for the world rocked and swayed.

            _You will die._

            Oh yeah. That's right. No wonder I felt like crap.

            Something cool brushed across my hot forehead. Where the flying raptor had clawed at my shoulder felt puffy and itchy, but otherwise was the least of all the pains on my body. I groaned, wishing that whatever coolness was on my head would be all over me. I burned. I ached. And yet somehow, through it all, I found my eyelids and propped them open. My vision was blurry, but soon cleared.

            “Well, you're still a bit warm, but not nearly as bad as you were.”

            I had to blink hard to see again. A girl with a kind, round face and almond-shaped green eyes smiled back at me. She had the most peculiar white-blond hair, akin to the color of sun-bleached straw.

            “Hi,” she said.

            I just stared at her, not really trusting my throat to work. Not that I had much of anything to say.

            She turned around to pull up a book-sized case, which she laid next to me. I could feel the cool, hard surface pressing against my arm through the blankets. With a light snap she unfastened the case and started fiddling around in the piles of bandages and bottles within.

            “I hope you have a good story for running out in a storm like that, and on a horse that could have died beneath you on the way, nonetheless.”

            Probably would have made my life easier if he had. Crushed to death by horse. Now I have to figure out what to do with the rest of my life, however much I had left.

            Asking for permission with her eyes first, she reached over and slid down the sleeve of a huge nightshirt I didn't remember wearing before.

            “You've been out for a few days,” she said. “Your leg's fractured, though it looks a lot worse than that. I stitched up your shoulder while you were asleep, and it looks like it hasn't bled too much, but we should change your bandages just to be sure.”

            Sitting up was like moving a mountain, even with her help. Piles of pillows had been set up behind me, and I took that moment to feverishly squint around at the rest of the room. It was round, with sturdy, wood walls, simple wooden furniture, and a set of banister-less stairs curving down to the right. I took in the pink bedspread, the obviously girlish, personal touches, and came to the conclusion that this had to be her room.

            The girl in question had gentle hands as she tugged the bandages away from my shoulder.

            “I'm Ilia, by the way, and I've been so excited to meet you—while you're awake, that is. I've always wanted another girl in the village, since I'm guessing you can't very well go back from where you ran from.”

            I tried not to look too suspicious at that. I guess what else could she assume? I couldn't be traveling, because I didn't have any provisions and only that cloak as any sort of cover. Not to mention no one in their right mind would force a horse as old as mine to take them anywhere far away. Speaking of which, where is that old man?

            I hardly felt her fingers as she cleaned the three gashes across my shoulder and reapplied some green smelling goop.

            “So, what's the story?” Her smile had turned from a 'u' to a 'v'. “Arranged marriage? Fell in love with someone forbidden? Did some jerk break your heart?”

            I stared. “Uh, no.” As expected, I sounded like I had gargled sand before talking. “Didn't have anything to do with love, actually.” Which wasn't too big of a lie. It wasn't like imprinting was the same as falling in love, right? Just my body zooming in a baby-making partner...

            Goddesses, that made it sound so much worse.

            Ilia deflated. “Really? Then what happened? It's got to be drama to the extreme to bring you all the way here. I mean, I'm guessing you came from far away.”

            “Uh, yeah,” I twitched a bit beneath her hands.

            “Well?”

            “Um,” My mother couldn't stand watching me die before my eyes, so she kicked me out of the house to go die in the arms of the man who ruined it all for us in the first place. “My mom sort of...told me to leave.”

            “What?! You mean she made you leave that night? In the storm? On that skin and bones horse?”

            “She was a little stressed.”

            “What did you do?” her face twitched, as though to be ashamed, but instead curved into another one of her 'v' shaped smiles. “Did you fall in bed with a guy? Sell yourself to prostitution?”

            I just looked at her blankly. What a strange girl. I liked her.

            Her jaw dropped. “You didn't.”

            I flinched. “What?”

            “You know,” she wiggled her almost invisible eyebrows.

            It took longer than I would have liked for my muddled, too hot brain to get that she had just called me a prostitute.

            “No!” I got a little too loud and ended up in a fit of coughing. She patted my back and pushed a glass of water into my hand.

            “Then what was that goopy smile for?”

            “Can't you give a sick person a break?” But I felt that said goopy smile coming on again as I tasted a hint of lemon in the water. “You're...you're really sweet, that's all. I sort of thought I'd just...die.”

            “What, did you think we'd just let you?”

            “We?”

            “Link and I, we found collapsed in front of his house in the middle of the night in a storm. Your horse was making quite the racket.”

            “Where is he, anyways?”

            “Oh, with Epona. Don't worry, he's been a complete sweetheart. I've never met a more mild mannered horse.”

            I took another swallow of the lemon tinted water. It tasted pleasantly cool on my burning throat, and even as I felt it run down to my belly, the pain in my head eased. I sighed in relief.

            She leaned down. “Feel better?”

            “What is this?”

            “Water from Ordon spring. I don't know what it is about it, but it tends to ease pain and help wounds heal quicker. Not, like, super quick, but quicker than normal.”

            I just nodded sleepily and drank some more.

            Ilia stayed by my side the whole time I managed to stay conscious. Even though I didn't much feel like it, she coaxed me into eating some brothy soup that made me even more sleepy, and before I could thank her, I was out.

            While I slept I dreamed, or remembered, I didn't know. But in them there was a man who had wings like mother, except a beautiful silver gray, almost like my horse's coat. He stood tall as a tree, broad as a bear, but had a quiet, almost nonexistent laugh. In my dreams he grab me, large hands swallowing up my waist, and throw me in the air with that gentle laugh of his.

            “You look like your mother,” he would always say. “Why couldn't you look more like me?”

            And I had wanted to look more like him. Mother was just black. Father, though, had strands of white and silver all throughout his hair, beard, and feathers. The white would gleam in the sunlight, but glow in the moonlight.

            He almost buckled over with mirth when I had told him he was beautiful.

            That's what he had been like. Happy. Easy to laugh.

            Each memory was spaced apart with moments of consciousness, which were either filled with Ilia, soup, and healing spring water, or an empty room that ticked with the sound of an unseen clock.

 

            “I don't know what's wrong. Her shoulder and leg have healed already—in only a week, can you believe it?--But the fever won't leave and she complains about her back in her sleep.”

            The back of my eyelids were dark and soft. They fought against being opened, so it was through my lashes that I found Ilia speaking to a young man I knew all too well.

            “How did she heal so fast?” she asked.

            “Sometimes the spirit of the spring influences it,” he said, and the tenor of his voice made my blood hum in happiness. Why had I never noticed how sweet he sounded? You could just hear his heart in the way he said his words.            

            “But we should call for a doctor or something,” Ilia looked honestly concerned. “I'm able to get her to eat when she wakes up, but she can't stay awake.”

            “Have you checked her back?”

            “What?”

            “You said she keeps complaining about it. Maybe there's a clue there.”

            Ilia blushed lightly. “Well, yes, but it only looks like a weird rash.”

            “That weird rash is probably what's giving her the fever.”

            “I know that! But then how do we get rid of it?”

            “Beats me.”

            “Ugh! You're so unhelpful!”

            I didn't want them to know I was awake. Then they'd be asking all sorts of questions that I wouldn't know how to answer. Also, it made me feel strange that they were so worried about keeping me alive when I was going to die soon. Besides, like this, through my lashes, hidden like this, I could examine the man who ruined my life as much as I wanted—although he had done so unknowingly. If anything, it was my stupid hormones that had done me in.

            “Do you know where she's from yet?” he asked. “Maybe we can get a hold of this mother of hers.”

            “Don't you go sticking your nose into her business!”

            Link lifted his hands up in defense. “Woa, hold on, we don't know what went on between them. For all we know it could've just been a big misunderstanding or--”

            “A misunderstanding doesn't make mothers send their children out in a storm across a monster infested field on a dying horse!”

            “The horse isn't dying,” said Link quietly, but I could see a strange shadow flitter across his eyes. I remembered the wolf of my dreams. “Is that what she said?”

            “That's what happened.” said Ilia with her fists on her hips.

            “So, that's what she says.”

            “Oh, bother, just go away. You've checked in and all that, so go herd goats or something.”

            I felt my chest warm at her defense of me. She didn't even know me, but had complete trust in my word. Something within me, maybe an old memory, told me that was a dangerous virtue, one that might get her killed one day, but it only made me like her all the more.

            When Link left, I allowed my eyes to open all the way and struggled to sit up on my own. My back hurt, but without the shoulder and leg pain joining in, I found it somewhat manageable.

            Instantly, Ilia was at my side. “Are you feeling any better?”

            “Yeah,” I said, as brightly as I could. “Look, you don't have to try so hard.” I was, after all, going to die soon.

            “Who says I'm trying hard? Anyways, do you feel up for a little walk? Not far, but my mom always told me that some fresh air can do a lot in helping someone feel better. We'll just go to the porch.”

            And because I didn't want her to waste any more worry, and because I really did like her, I nodded and allowed her to wrap me up in a blanket and sling an arm around her shoulders. When my back protested, I clenched my jaw shut.

            The ground floor of the house was built much the same as the top floor. Well made, well lived in, and furnished simply. A smoldering of embers burned in the fireplace on the other end of the large room. I could see a door in the back, leading down into what had to be another room.

            Ilia threw the front door open. I blinked in the setting sunlight. The first thing I saw were the hills of trees, painted half gold by a sun hugged in the crook of two mountains. I could hear the laughter of children and the tinkling of water.

            “Here we are, easy go.”

             She sat me down in a padded chair, which could have been placed there just for me. I found the source of the laughter in three kids, two boys and a girl, next to a stream that ran through the little village. A waterwheel creaked somewhere, and at a little round cottage across the way I could see a blond woman rocking in her chair, a bundle held carefully in her arms.

            I breathed in deep. Pine. Grass. Something cool, like the lemon spring water made into air.

            Ilia smiled at me, as though something on my face pleased her, and she sat herself down next to me, feet hanging off of the porch. As she chatted about the children at the stream, things about the village, what the people were like, I listened to my own breathing and tasted the air. I could almost feel the fever melting off of me, leaving me with an almost comfortable ache.

            I wanted to freeze time and live in the moment forever. This would do just fine. I didn't need a purpose, I didn't need to be wanted. Just for now, in these trees, listening to Ilia talk, watching one boy push at the other one playfully while the girl snapped at them, and waiting for the gold paint of the trees to run off with the sun.

            I closed my eyes.

            “You think you can eat anything?”

            I smiled. “Actually, I'm starving.”

            “Really? Oh, good, I hope that means you're getting better.”

            “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

            “Oh, no problem, really.”

            But I don't know if she heard me correctly—heard the real depth to my gratitude.

            I fingered the soft pants she had given me and the coarser weave of the oversized nightshirt and figured I must have bled all over my old ones. Pity. I liked that blouse.

            “Hey! Look who's up!”

            My head snapped to them. Somehow, while I had been staring out across the village, Link had appeared in front of Ilia's house. He looked even more handsome than when we had first met, with his face and bare arms glistening with a fine sheen of sweat and his hair dusted with dirt.

            For the first time, I saw what Donna and Chenise saw. The curve of muscle, the shape of his shoulders, the strength of his chin.

            And I wasn't prepared for what it did to my insides.

            I bolted.

            Or, at least, I tried to, forgetting that I had been bedridden for more than a week.

            My legs wobbled from the unexpected weight and my knees buckled. The edge of the porch came up for my face. I heard him shout. Then his hands caught my shoulders, leaving my knees to thwack against the worn wood. I could smell his sweat, and his touch sent shivers of fire down my spine.

            Oh goddesses, this man was going to kill me.

            “What's the ru—hey!”

            I had shoved him away, pushing myself back onto the porch at the same time. I didn't wait to see his face, but scuttled backwards like a crab until I could force my stupid lame body to its feet and slip back into the safety of the house.

            Ilia looked back when she heard the door slam. I must have looked something awful, for she dropped the bowl she was holding. Thankfully, it had been empty.

            “Din, what happened?”

            My knees were shaking horribly. We blinked at each other for a moment before I realized just how much of a freak I had just acted like, and tried to give her the most casual smile I could muster.

            “It's nothing,” I said. Then, to further my claim, I tried to walk to the chair at the table and just managed it. “Your mom was right, fresh air does wonders!”

            “Doesn't it? Oh, and do you feel like one scoop or two scoops?”

            “One. Let's not push it.” Yeah, I'd already done too much of that. Sure I was going to die, but I didn't want to have my body torturing me till then. As little suffering as possible would be nice.

            Link didn't come knocking on the door to ask what the crap was up wrong with me, for which I thanked his gods for. Had to count my blessings where I could get them.

            After dinner, I accidentally passed out on the kitchen table and woke up to Ilia wrapping my arm around her shoulders again and taking me back upstairs.

            “Isn't there a couch or something I could take?” I mumbled. “I mean, that's your bed, isn't it?”

            “Oh, don't worry about it.”

            “But--”

            Then she gave me such a stern look, one which I had just seen her give Link earlier, that whatever protest I had died on my tongue. She'd make a most formidable mother one day.

            The thought, however, made me feel slightly ill. Her and Link seemed to be good friends. Surely he must see that in her. If there was any girl he loved, it was probably the strong, kind-hearted Ilia.

            Lucky for me, I fell asleep before the strange feeling I felt at that thought made me throw up.

            From then on I felt stronger each time I woke up. The pain in my back didn't go away completely, but I found was more able to move past the pain. One evening I was able to meet Ilia's horn-mustached father, whose sheer bulk reminded me so much of the vague memories I was getting back of my father that I instantly warmed up to him. It amused me to no ends how such a huge man would cower before the dragon-mother look (as I had christened it), of his much smaller daughter. He also didn't ask too many questions, which I liked. Like Ilia, he didn't see the need to pester someone who obviously had a painful past.

            Whenever I complained about being a burden, the most stern of frowns would come on his face. After the initial protest against using her bed, Ilia had just adopted a roll of her eyes.

            “When you get feeling better I'll put you to work for your keep, but that ain't going to be much use if you keep up with that sad look on your face.” said her father.

            I hadn't even noticed my face was doing anything.

            Illia nodded. “Yeah, we're trying so hard because we want to help you. Whatever happened back home, it's behind you now. You can start fresh here.”

            I could feel my eyes burning and fought against it. I knew, once I started crying, I wouldn't be able to stop.

            “Why...why are you being so nice?” And I honestly wondered it. I may look like a Hylian now, but shouldn't they be sensing it by now? Shouldn't they be aggravated with me as much as their gods?

            “Cause we like you, Hanna.” said Ilia simply, and her father nodded gravely.

            “Stop worrying,” he said. “You can do your part when you're better.”

            Sleep was hard to come by after that. I had been caught in the crossfires of being touched by their compassion and dismayed that it didn't matter anyways.

            Moved by a new found need to repay them with what little time I had, I told Ilia I was going to try and take a walk. The sooner I got well the better. I checked to make sure Link was nowhere in sight before I headed up a hill to the left of her house that looked especially inviting. Though I liked the village people well enough, I wasn't feeling too social, and the stares the kids had sent me the one time they had spotted me on the porch wasn't exactly inviting.

            Up the hill I found a pasture filled with goat, but strange goats at that. They were almost the size of cows and with heavy horns that met up at the tips. I leaned heavily on the gate to rest my knees and watched them lazily eat grass. Maybe it would have been better if I had been born a goat. Then I could stay up here in this beautiful village in the forest, watching the sun paint the trees gold and listening to the water.

            At some point I turned around a slipped down to sit with my back against one of the posts of the gate. I fingered the green grass and was almost surprised to find it soft and waxy against my fingers. In fact, I got so delighted by the difference from my dreams that I got caught up in yanking out grass strands and weaving them together. Maybe I could make a ring for Ilia and we could have a laugh over it. I could make up some story about how a witch had given it to me, or something else ridiculous. Making her smile was one of the few ways I felt like I had done some good.

            “Hey, Hanna.”

            I dropped the ring. Instantly I could feel the strange squirm in my stomach again.

            On the other side of the gate, Link leaned with his arms folded across the top. He smiled gently at me with a strand of grass sticking out of his mouth. His dark gold hair had a windswept look to them, and I thought I could make out a smug of ink on his face.

            I didn't think. Ignoring the protest of my popping knees, I leaped up into a run.

            “Wait! What did I do?”

            This time, when I ran through Ilia's front door, I collapsed onto the floor, my energy spent. Lucky for me Ilia had gone to take a bath and hadn't heard me panting.

            That night, this time in my own bed under the stairs, the sprint seemed to have spent what strength I had and the pain in my back made me toss and turn restlessly. I kept seeing Link's dismay as I ran from him, and somehow it carried over to the dead eyes my mother had when she told me to go and die. I didn't doubt my mother's love for me, and logically I knew I had done nothing wrong, but a little child within me still wondered. I had dreamed every night of her screaming at the sky, of father throwing me in the air, of the way her hands shook as she put the money into my hand and pushed me out the door.

            When I finally did fall asleep, it was only to open my eyes to a pile of fighting, scabbling leathery wings in the middle of a wide field. I didn't have to see to know what the monstrous birds pecked at. And if I had had any doubt, specks of silvery feathers fluttered down from where they had been kicked up into the air.

            I woke up with a retch, and before my body could even decide if it wanted to throw up or not, I was out the door and into the moonlit night.

            I walked, not caring where I ended up. Ilia's spare, old night gown only came to my knees and I could feel the cold dew on the grass making my legs itch. The village was asleep. No children played in the stream, no candle lit the windows, and no Link walked the roads with fine, sun-kissed arms.

            The pain in my back had become maddening. I stumbled across the bridge and threw up over the side, almost tipping over and falling head-first in the process. I just got up and kept walking though, heart pounding, mind whirling.

            _I'm going to be torn apart just like Father._ I passed the last of the houses and saw the waterwheel cranking away. I went up a gentle hill framed by familiar short cliffs, up and up into a clearing. The warm instinct from that night jabbed at me, urging me to go up the ladder and the curious tree house set in the old oak. But I walked on. I saw two horses standing to the side of it and recognized the bony rump of my horse next to another almost twice his size. I wanted to stop and thank the old stallion, maybe see how he was doing, but another flare of white-hot pain from my back and twist of my heart pushed me on.

            _Go and die already. I can't look at your face any longer._

            I tripped on a stone and fell to my knees. The forest had gladly swallowed me whole and moonlight only broke in to the ground in diamonds. I retched, but managed not to throw up again, and got back on my feet. I could hear the soft hush of water up ahead and it called to me. I felt hot and cold all at once, but the sound was gentle on my ears and soothing. I wanted to die to the sound of it, in peace. I didn't want to hurt anymore.

            I turned into an ornate gate I hardly noticed. When my feet hit sand, I almost gasped in surprise.

            A beautiful scene met my eyes, one I couldn't have imagined. A gorgeous spring, fed by a low waterfall that spanned the length of it and kicked up rainbows in the moonlight. Green branches hung over it like a gently sloping roof, and tall, smooth stones covered in moss framed the mouth of the cliff that fed the spring.

            And somehow, that's what finally broke me.

            The sob I had been holding down from day one was not gentle coming out. I stumbled into the waters and happily fell to my knees, holding my throbbing, hurting, burning body.

            “Stupid gods, why did you leave us here? Hell, why did you even make us? You bastards. You fucking bastards.”

            I slapped the water, suddenly in a fury. Furious at the gods who left us behind, furious at my mother for snapping like that, furious at her for kicking me out before explaining a thing just because she couldn't handle her stupid plan failing, furious at the fact that I hadn't questioned her once because I just knew what she said was true, furious for hurting so god damn much and not having a freaking clue why, furious at Link for being so fucking beautiful, furious at the world, furious at everything!

            I tipped my head back and just started screaming every profanity I could think of. As the pain grew to a blinding intensity in my back I fought back against it by going deeper into the spring, belting every last screech I could at the stupid night sky that dared to be so damn beautiful for no reason other than to mock me.

            “ _I hate you!_ ” I shouted, hoping those uncaring bitch goddesses heard me. “ _What did I ever do to you!?_ ”

            Then the pain won over and my angry screams turned into screams of agony. I was forced to my knees as my back tore apart with a sound like tearing cloth and leather. Blood turned the water red about me, and through it I could see my pale hands clutching the sandy bottom.

             And just as suddenly, it was over.

            I laid in the waters, half floating, with my legs and butt on the bottom. The cold water soothed my back, just as it had soothed my aching head earlier, and my chest felt hollow and numb. It felt good.  I hadn't remembered just how good it felt to not constantly be in horrible pain. Guess I hadn't been dying. 

            Black feathers brushed against my fingertips. I grasped a handful of them and held on for a moment, breathing heavily.

            I didn't know how long I laid there, drifting and staring up at the stars. Almost without a thought I let my fingers trail down the mass of feathers that had torn from my back. My wings must be long, because I never even came close to the end, though I found a knob the elbow of it. With each brush of feathers I remembered, faintly, brushing my feathers just like this in a bathtub. Mother had told me to rub the ends with a special shampoo she made in an ugly pot that looked like a duck with its head chopped off. I had loved the smell, though. It had been sweet and earthy.

            I guess now there'd be no hiding it. I couldn't go back to Ilia's. These wings must be the traits my mother had talked about that would mark me for slaughter. Feeling somewhat disconnected, I wryly wondered if I should start a bet with myself on when the first monster would show up.

            A slight breeze brushed over me and I shivered. Gingerly, I sat up, felt out my feet, and slowly stood, testing how my legs would handle the new weight on my back. My waterlogged wings hung limply into the water. I lifted one up first, just as slow as before, wary that I was still surrounded by dissipating blood and wondering what kind of state my back must be in.

            Water dribbled off the ends of my black feathers and tinkled back into the water.

            “Hanna...”

            My heart stopped.       

            I turned, my mouth suddenly very dry.

            Behind me, in the gateway, stood Link.


	5. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanna comes face to face with a guardian of the light, who knows all too well that his mistresses want her death. But Hanna doesn't want to die.

I guess I should have expected something like this happening, what with all the racket I had been making.

Time held still. I wouldn't have even been surprised if the waterfall behind me had simply stop flowing. I stared at him, heart making up for the pause by thudding as fast and hard as it could in my throat, and he stared back at me. He only wore a heavy night shirt and pants, and his feet were bare. He held a sword in its sheath in his hand, and seeing it made me smile and a bit of my nerves soften. Of course. He would have heard all my screaming and rushed to the rescue without even bothering to put his shoes on. Maybe he really was the same man I had seen in my dreams.

I waited for him to say something to the winged freak in front of him. I even wouldn't have been surprised if he came at me with that sword of his. He was, after all, a favorite to his goddesses. I had seen that much in my dreams, at least.

"Are you okay?"

This made me flinch. He must of noticed, for he moved to try and hide his sword behind him. When I didn't answer he slowly crouched to the ground, put down his sword, and just as cautiously stood and took a step towards me.

He asked once more if I was okay.

"No." I said hoarsely.

I watched as he stepped into the waters, then stopped when I pulled up my wings and instinctively drew them in around me. I couldn't control the panic welling up inside of me when I realized I didn't have a clue what he could be thinking. Somehow, his quiet acceptance sounded so much worse than if he had just gone at me with a sword.

 _Don't lure me in,_ I thought. _Don't seem so gentle._

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Can I...can I come closer? Just to see if you're okay."

"No." I said it more quickly than I intended to, and reflexively I stepped even deeper into the spring.

"Okay, I'll stay right here then. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

My legs hurt, and I was beginning to realize that a too-small wet nightgown was not good night clothes, and goosebumps had erupted all over my arms. My soaked wings weren't helping.

"You're that girl I met at that circus tent in Castle Town, aren't you? You had a friend who had green hair." A twitch of a smile crossed his face. "You said she wanted to look like a tree."

This shocked me more than anything else he had done that night.

"Kind of hard to forget. You saw...remember how you said you saw a wolf when you looked at me? Well, I kind of...was." he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I guess you popping wings out of your back makes it okay for me to tell you that. We're kind of the same, huh?"

"No." I said.

"Maybe not the same species, but, you know." he grinned, though it look awkward. "So, what's wrong? I saw a lot of blood in there, you must still be in a lot of pain. Is there anything I can do to help?"

I looked away from him. He was making it too easy to be attached. I had to turn the subject from me.

"What happened to her? That orange haired imp who hid in your shadow."

I heard his surprise. "You saw her too?" When I didn't answer, he said, with lowering of his voice, "She went home."

"Was it to that place with the black clouds and amber skies?"

"Yes." he said slowly. After a pause, he asked, "How do you know about the twilight realm?"

So that's what it was called. Huh.

"I...I saw a lot of you." I said cautiously.

"Is that why you kept running away from me? Did what you see scare you?"

I felt faintly alarmed that my running from him had affected him in any way and I looked up to shake my head furiously. "No!"

"Did I do something wrong?"

Not technically. "No."

We fell into another awkward silence. Feeling he wasn't going to attack me anytime soon (not that I would be able to do anything about it in my state, let alone with his skills), I allowed myself to drop back into the water in a cocoon of feathers. I heard more splashes as he came towards me.

"Hanna!"

I said nothing, and when he finally stopped just a few feet away from me, I could sense more than see his wariness.

I didn't like this. I didn't like this at all.

But something strange was happening. The once silvery light had started to die in a new brighter light, just like the sun. But it couldn't be morning. The light came on to fast.

Alarmed, I looked over my wings to see the beautiful, swirling carvings upon the sentinel rocks coming alive. An orb, just a shade darker than the sun, slipped out of the water. I squinted against the light, half-blinded, my heart thrumming faster than ever.

Then I blinked, and a great beast of light, with horns that curved about the sun, loomed over me, filling the spring with curtains of rainbows and light.

"Child of the forgotten gods," it boomed, "you would do well not to slander my mistresses."

So, I was to die by this beautiful creature? Killed by such wondrous light? How ironic that I found myself in love with it even as I thought this. I could make out its shape, like one of the goats I had seen in the field that day, but with a large tail. Light moved through it like liquid.

At the same time, terror overwhelmed me.

_**I don't want to die.** _

I flung out my newborn wings, flinging water droplets and more rainbows about me. Adrenaline hid the spike of pain. I turned to flee.

Just to come face to face with the spirit of light once more, as though I had never turned in the first place.

"You should have stayed in hiding," it said.

All the blood rushed from my head. My breath caught.

I fainted.

**Author's Note:**

> Why does this say it's completed? It's not. But I update every Wednesday so no stress.


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